London, Day 8

Ah, London, I do love you so. You’ve made me laugh: today, in the British Museum, I saw three small statues in a row, and the caption read: “Clay votive figures of the hmnmn culture, hmnmnm B.C. At least two are male; the other is female, or it has lost a bit of clay.”

You’ve made me frown (see yesterday’s post). You’ve made me cry (at All-Hallows-by-the-Tower church, reading “To the Fallen” over a WWI tomb).

You’ve made me exclaim in surprise: In wandering around St. Paul’s Cathedral today, I stumbled upon a miniature village of tents, with walkways, Loo Notices and calls for theatrically inclined people to perform in Saturday’s play. There was even, for Sukkot, a pop-up tent Sukkah (in case, I guess, you weren’t satisfied in your spiritual leanings by the overwhelmingly non-pop-up presence of St. Paul’s).

You’ve made me disappointed: The William Morris museum was closed during this visit, and the great majority of the textiles have been removed from exhibit at the V&A.

You’ve left me well fed. You’ve worn me out. You’ve left me proud to have figured out the Tube system and even to find my way around a bit. You’ve left me with things I’ve not yet seen or done, things I’m glad to have revisited, and friends I’m glad to have met.

It’s been fun. Let’s do it again, shall we? But next time, I plan to visit here as well. I’ll fit it in. Perhaps I’ll even be wearing the P3 sweater?